by Hugh Howey
Silo 18
27
“Are you sure you should be digging around in there?” Lukas asked.
“Hold the light still,” Juliette said. “I’ve got one more to go.”
“But shouldn’t we talk about this?”
“I’m just looking, Luke. Except that right now, I can’t see a damn thing.”
Lukas adjusted the light, and Juliette crawled forward. It was the second time she’d explored beneath the floor grates at the bottom of the server room ladder. It was here that she’d traced the camera feeds over a month ago, soon after Lukas made her mayor. He had shown her how they could see anywhere within the silo, and Juliette had asked who else could see. Lukas had insisted no one until she found the feeds disappearing through a sealed port where the outer edge of the silo wall should be. She remembered seeing other lines in that bundle. Now she wanted to make sure.
She worked the last screw on the cover panel. It came off, exposing the dozens of wires she’d cut, each of them bursting with hundreds of tiny filaments like silver strands of hair. Running parallel to the bundles were thick cables that reminded her of the main feeds from the two generators in Mechanical. There were also two copper pipes buried in there.
“Have you seen enough?” Lukas asked. He crouched down behind her where the floor grating had been removed and aimed the light over her shoulder.
“In the other silo, this level still has power. All of thirty-four has full power with no generator running.” She tapped the thick cables with her screwdriver. “The servers over there are still humming as well. And some of the survivors tapped into that power to run pumps and things up and down the silo. I think all that juice comes from here.”
“Why?” Lukas asked. He played the light across the bundle and seemed more interested now.
“Because they needed the power for the pumps and grow lights,” Juliette said, amazed she had to spell it out.
“No, why are they providing this power in the first place?”
“Maybe they don’t trust us to keep things running on our own. Or maybe the servers require more juice than we can generate. I don’t know.” She leaned to the side and peered back at Lukas. “What I want to know is why they left it running after they tried to kill everyone. Why not shut it off with everything else?”
“Maybe they did. Maybe your friend hacked in here and turned it back on.”
Juliette laughed. “No. Not Solo—”
There was a voice down the hall. The crawl space grew dark as Lukas spun the flashlight around. There shouldn’t have been anyone else down there.
“It’s the radio,” he said. “Let me see who it is.”
“The flashlight,” Juliette called out — but he was already gone. His boots rang and faded down the hallway.
Juliette reached ahead of herself and felt for the copper pipes. They were the right size. Nelson had shown her where the argon tanks were kept. There was a pump and filter mechanism that was supposed to draw a fresh supply of argon from deep within the earth, similar to how the air handlers worked. But now Juliette knew to trust nothing. Pulling out the floor panels and the wall panels behind the tanks, she had discovered two lines feeding into the gas tanks separate from the supply system. A supply system she now suspected did absolutely nothing. Just like with the gaskets and heat tape, the second power feed, the visor of lies, everything had a false front. The truth lay buried beneath.
Lukas stomped back toward her. He knelt down, and the light returned to the crawlspace.
“Jules, I need you to get out of there.”
“Please hand me the flashlight,” she told him. “I can’t see shit.” This was going to be another argument like when she’d cut the camera feeds. As if she would cut these pipes without knowing what was in them—
“I need you to get out here. I… please.”
And she heard it in his voice. Something was wrong. Juliette looked back and caught an eyeful of flashlight.
“One sec,” she said. She wiggled back toward him on her palms and the toes of her boots until she reached the open access panel. She left her multi-tool behind.
“What is it?” She sat up and stretched her back, untied her hair, gathered the loose ends, and began tying it back. “Who was that?”
“Your father—” Lukas began.
“Something wrong with my father?”
He shook his head. “No, that was him that called. It… one of the kids is gone.”
“Missing?” But she knew that wasn’t what he meant. “Lukas, what happened?” She stood and dusted off her chest and knees, headed toward the radio.
“They were on their way up to the farms. There was a crowd heading down. One of the kids went over the rails—”
“Fell?”
“Twenty levels,” Lukas said.
Juliette couldn’t believe this. She grabbed the radio and pressed a palm against the wall, suddenly dizzy. “Who was it?”
“He didn’t say.”
Before she squeezed the mic, she saw that the set had been left on channel 17 from the last time she’d called Jimmy. Her dad must’ve been using Walker’s new portable. “Dad? Do you read me?”
She waited. Lukas held out his canteen, but Juliette waved him away.
“Jules? Can I get back to you? Something else has just come up.”
Her father sounded shaken. There was a lot of static in the line. “I need to know what’s going on,” she told him.
“Hold on. Elise—”
Juliette covered her mouth.
“—we’ve lost Elise. Jimmy went looking for her. Baby, we had a problem coming up. There was a crowd heading down. An angry crowd. They knew who I had with me. And Marcus went over the rails. I’m sorry—”
Juliette felt Lukas’s hand on her shoulder. She wiped her eyes. “Is he—?”
“I haven’t made my way down yet to check. Rickson got hurt in the scuffle. I’m tending to him. Hannah and Miles and the baby are fine. We’re at Supply right now. Look, I really need to go. We can’t find Elise, and Jimmy took off after her. Someone said they saw her heading up. I don’t want you to do anything, but I thought you’d want to know about the boy.”
Her hand trembled as she squeezed the mic. “I’m coming down. You’re at Supply on one-ten?”
There was a long pause. She knew he was debating whether or not to argue with her about heading that way. The radio popped as he gave up without a fight.
“I’m at one-ten, yeah. I’m heading down to see about the boy. I’ll leave Rickson and the others here. I told Jimmy to bring Elise back here once he finds her.”
“Don’t leave them there,” Juliette said. She didn’t know whom they could trust, where they might be safe. “Take them with you. Dad, get them back to Mechanical. Get them home.” Juliette wiped her forehead. The entire thing was a mistake. Bringing them over was a mistake.
“Are you sure?” her father asked. “The crowd we ran into. I think they were heading that way.”
28
Elise was lost in the bizarre. She had heard someone call it that, and it was the right name for the place, a place of crowds beyond imagining, a land so wildly strange that its name barely did it justice.
How she found herself there was a bit bewildering. Her puppy had disappeared in a great confrontation of strangers — more people than she thought could exist at one time — and she had chased up the steps after it. One person after another had pointed helpfully upward. A woman in yellow said she saw a man with a dog heading toward the bizarre. Elise had gone up ten levels until she’d reached landing one-hundred.
There had been two men on the landing blowing smoke from their noses. They had said someone just passed through with a dog. They had waved her inside.
Level one-hundred in her home was a scary wasteland of narrow passages and empty rooms scattered with trash and debris and rats. Here it was all of that but full of people and animals and everyone shouting and singing. It was a place of bright colors and awful smells, o
f people breathing smoke in and out, smoke they held in their fingers and kept going with small sparks of fire. There were men who wore paint on their faces. A woman dressed all in red with a tail and horns who had waved Elise inside a tent, but Elise had turned and ran.
She ran from one fright to another until she was completely lost. There were knees everywhere to bump into. No longer looking for Puppy, now she just wanted out. She crawled beneath a busy counter and cried, but that got her nowhere. It did give her a terribly close view of a fat and hairless animal that made noises like Rickson snoring, though. This animal was led right by her with a rope around its neck. Elise dried her eyes and pulled her book out, looked through pictures until she could name it a pig. Naming things always helped. They weren’t nearly so scary after that.
It was Rickson who got her moving again, even though he wasn’t there. Elise could hear his loud voice booming through the Wilds telling her there was nothing to be afraid of. He and the twins used to send her on errands through the pitch black when she was just old enough to walk. They would send her for blackberries and plums and delicacies near the stairs when there were people still around to fear. “The littlest ones are the safest,” Rickson used to tell her. That was years ago. She wasn’t so little anymore.
She put her book away and decided that the dark Wilds with their leafy fingers brushing her neck and the clicking of pumps and chattering teeth were worse than painted people leaking smoke from their noses. With her face chapped from crying, she crawled out from beneath the counter and jostled among the knees. Always turning right — which was the trick to getting through the Wilds in the dark — she found herself in a smoky hallway with loud hisses and a smell in the air like boiling rat.
“Hey, kid, you lost?”
A boy with short-cropped hair and bright green eyes studied her from the edge of a booth. He was older than her, but not by much. As big as the twins. Elise shook her head. She reconsidered and nodded.
The boy laughed. “What’s your name?”
“Elise,” she said.
“That’s a different name.”
She shrugged, not sure what to say. The boy caught her eyeing a man beyond him as he lifted strips of sizzling meat with a large fork.
“You hungry?” the boy asked.
Elise nodded. She was always hungry. Especially when she was scared. But maybe that was because she got scared when she went out looking for food, and she went out looking for food when she was hungry. Hard to remember which came first. The boy disappeared behind the counter. He came back with a thick piece of meat.
“Is it rat?” Elise asked.
The boy laughed. “It’s pig.”
Elise scrunched up her face, remembering the animal that grunted at her earlier. “Does it taste like rat?” she asked, full of hope.
“You say that louder and my dad’ll have your hide. You want some or not?” He handed the strip of meat over. “I’m guessing you don’t have two chits on you.”
Elise accepted the meat and didn’t say. She took a small bite, and little bursts of happiness exploded in her mouth. It was better than rat. The boy studied her.
“You’re from the Mids, aren’t you?”
Elise shook her head and took another bite. “I’m from Silo 17,” she said, chewing. Her mouth was full of saliva. She eyed the man cooking the strips of meat. Marcus and Miles should be there to try some.
“You mean level seventeen?” The boy frowned. “You don’t look like a topper. No, too dirty to be a topper.”
“I’m from the other silo,” Elise said. “West of here.”
“What’s a westophere?” the boy asked.
“West. Where the sun sets.”
The boy looked at her funny.
“The sun. It comes up in the east and sets in the west. That’s why maps point up. They point up at north.” She thought about pulling her book out and showing him the maps of the world, explaining how the sun went around and around, but her hands were covered in grease, and anyway the boy didn’t seem interested. “They dug over and rescued us,” she explained.
At this, the boy’s eyes went wide. “The dig. You’re from the other silo. It’s real?”
Elise finished the strip of pig and licked her fingers. She nodded.
The boy shoved a hand at her. Elise wiped her palm on her hip and grabbed it with her own.
“My name’s Shaw,” he said. “You want another piece of pig? Come under the counter. I’ll introduce you to my father. Hey, Pa, I want you to meet someone.”
“I can’t. I’m looking for Puppy.”
Shaw scrunched up his face. “Puppy? You’d want the next hall over.” He nodded the direction. “But c’mon, pig is much better. Dog is chewy like rat, and puppy is just more expensive than dog but tastes the same.”
Elise froze. The pig that went by earlier with a rope around its neck, maybe that one was a pet. Maybe they ate pets, just like Marcus and Miles always wanted to keep a rat for fun, even when everyone else was hungry. “They eat puppy?” she asked this boy.
“If you’ve got the chits, sure.” Shaw grabbed her hand. “Come back to the grill with me. I want you to meet my dad. He says you all aren’t real.”
Elise pulled away. “I’ve got to find my puppy.” She turned and scurried through the crowd in the direction the boy had nodded.
“Whaddya mean, your puppy—?” he yelled after her.
Around a line of stalls, Elise found another smoky hall. More smells like rat on a stick over an open flame. An old woman wrestled with a bird, two angry wings flapping from her fists. Elise stepped in poop and nearly slipped. The strangeness all around melted with the thought of her puppy gone. She heard someone yell about a dog, and searched for the voice. An older boy, probably Rickson’s age, was holding up a piece of red meat, a giant piece with white stripes that looked like bones. There was a pen there and signs with numbers on them. People from the crowd stopped to peer inside. Some of them pointed inside the pen and asked questions.
Elise fought through them toward the sound of yipping. There were live dogs in the pen. She could see through the slats and almost over the top when she was on her tiptoes. A huge animal the size of a pig lunged at the fence and growled at her, and the fence shook. It was a dog, but with a rope around its jaw so it couldn’t open. Elise could feel its hot breath blowing out its nose. She scooted out of everyone’s way and around the side.
There was a smaller pen in the back. Elise went past the counter to where two young men tended a smoking grill. Their backs were turned. They took something from a woman and handed her a package. Elise grabbed the top of the smaller fence and peered over. There was a dog on its side with five — no, six little animals eating at its belly. She thought they were rats at first, but they were the tiniest of puppies. They made Puppy seem like a grown dog. And they weren’t eating the dog — they were sucking like Hannah’s baby did at her breast.
Elise was so fixated on the tiny critters that she didn’t see the animal at the base of the fence lunge at her until it was too late. A black nose and a pink tongue bounced up and caught her on the jaw. She peered directly down the other side of the fence and saw Puppy, who bounded up at her again.
Elise cried out. Reaching over the fence, she had both hands on the animal, when someone grabbed her from behind.
“Don’t think you can afford that one,” one of the men behind the counter said.
Elise squirmed in his grip and tried to keep a hold of Puppy.
“Easy now,” the man said. “Let it go.”
“Let me go!” Elise cried.
Puppy slipped from her grasp. Elise wiggled loose, the shoulder strap of her bag yanked over her head. She fell at the man’s feet and got back up, reached for Puppy again.
“Well, now,” she heard the man say.
Elise reached over the fence and grabbed her pet again. Puppy’s feet scratched at the fence to help. His front paws draped over her shoulder, a wet tongue in her ear. Elise turned to find a m
an towering over her, a bloody white piece of fabric tied over his chest, her Memory Book in his hands.
“What’s this?” he asked, thumbing through the pages. A few of the loose papers shuffled free and he grabbed at them frantically.
“That’s my book,” Elise said. “Give it back.”
The man peered down at her. Puppy licked her face.
“Trade you for that one,” he said, pointing at Puppy.
“They’re both mine,” she insisted.
“Naw, I paid for that runt. But this’ll do.” He weighed her book in his hands, then reached down and steered Elise out of the booth and back toward the crowded hall.
Elise reached for the book. Her bag was being left behind. Puppy nipped her on the hand and nearly squirmed free. She was crying, she realized, as she squealed for the man to give her back her things. He showed his teeth and grabbed her by the hair, was angry now. “Roy! Come grab this runt.”
Elise screeched. The boy from outside yelling “dog” to everyone who passed by headed toward her. Puppy was nearly free. She was losing her grip again, and the man was going to rip out her hair.
She lost Puppy, and Elise squealed as the man lifted her off the ground. Then there was a flash, like a dog pouncing, but it was brown coveralls rather than brown fur that flew past, and the large man let out a grunt and fell to the ground. Elise went spilling after.
He no longer had a grip on her hair. Elise saw her bag. Her book. She grabbed both, clutched a handful of loose pages. Shaw was there, the boy who fed her pig. He scooped up Puppy and grinned at Elise.
“Run,” he said, flashing his teeth.
Elise ran. She danced away from the boy in the hall and bounced off people in the crowd. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Shaw running after her, Puppy clutched to his chest upside down, paws in the air. The crowd rattled and made room as the men from the stall came after them.